Moving forward to help her, Ben paused mid-step, smiling fondly as he watched the box of detergent slide across the top of the washer and into hand.

"Acquired a taste for coffee yet?" He asked, looking at the machine sitting on her counter— the same standard issue that had come with the apartment. He thought of that first evening in Darrow, sitting across from her at the dinner, watching the charming way her lip curled with every sip from the cup clutched between her hands.